Page 45 of Vow of the Undead (The Bloodrune Saga #1)

W ith every step toward the altar of sacrifice, my nerves frayed, leaving my skin sensitive with goosebumps and my heart thumping uncontrollably. I left my mother and the truth she spoke in my wake as I approached the center of the Hall of the Gods where our ancestors offered sacrifices.

“Silver,” Kayn said, his voice rough. “What are you doing?”

I continued toward the altar before my courage waned. The Gods would want something from me, and based on the stained altar, and the runes below, they’d want what flowed through my veins.

“What is required for this sacrifice?” he asked, his footsteps pacing behind me.

I stepped up to the altar, the runes carved into the yew at my feet. Deep ridges created all twenty-four runes in the ground around the base. The altar was cut with lines like rivers snaking from the spike at the center.

He ran ahead and cut in front of me, blocking my fixation on the altar. “You’ve only just recovered from Loki’s trial.”

I rolled my eyes up to his face and lifted my chin. “ What is my health to you? You’ve delivered your message, let me read it.”

His jaw flexed. “Will this sacrifice hurt you?” I said nothing. It was obvious enough. “Let me heal you after.”

“And risk turning into a vampire?”

“You’re chosen. You will not turn.”

“I will not drink your blood, Kayn.” I placed my hand on his chest and pushed him back so that I might step around him and stand before the altar.

He let me push him away but grabbed my wrist and turned me toward him. “You don’t have to.” Breath caught in my throat at the sight of his blunt fangs jutting from above the row of teeth at the top of his mouth. “There is another way I can heal you.”

“You can’t bite me either,” I said. When he shook his head, I furrowed my brow.

If there were other options to heal a witch, why did we raise a vampire?

Why did I deplete my energy compelling her?

“I knew you were full of secrets, Kayn.” I hoped the bite in my voice was as obvious as my frown.

“Why didn’t you do this when my mother needed it? ”

He barely let me finish before his words tumbled over mine. “The recipient must first accept it, and any healing whether it’s drinking my blood or not, requires a connection that I do not have with her.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but found that nothing came out.

Frozen, I stared at him helplessly. There was too much I didn’t understand.

Even after a childhood of careful teaching, warning of the monsters, and the pendant in my pocket, the sagas I’d memorized barely scratched the surface of the ice that coated the truth.

“How is it that a monster cares for my pain?” Nerves came through my voice with an edge.

I wasn’t mad at him, but he was the one standing in front of me. I couldn’t snap at the altar for requiring my blood and sacrifice. It was just a hunk of carved wood .

He was real, flesh and muscle, sending fire through my veins as I waited for his response. I didn’t know why I wanted him to tell me he cared for me. It was childish.

But I wanted it anyway.

The gold in his eyes flared, nearly choking out the brown. “I wasn’t always a monster.”

“Fine, you may heal me after.” I said it so he’d move. I was already fixated on communing with the Gods and he would not stop me, and he didn’t give me the confession I wanted.

Maybe he didn’t share the same interest that stirred within me.

As I’d hoped, he stepped aside and let go of my hand. With my hand free now, I thrust it into my pocket and pulled out the pendant.

Tipping the sharp edge against my palm, I stretched out my arms over the spike.

I pressed harder and harder until the tip split my skin open.

Sucking air through my teeth, I dragged the tip across the longest line of my left palm, the lifeline.

With every beat of my heart, I became more aware of the stinging.

The persistent pain caused my arms to quiver, my hands shaking with every stretch of flesh I cut into.

I pulled the weapon down, down until the line in my hand disappeared at my wrist.

Hot blood flowed freely over the spike in the altar. It dripped slowly at first and then filled the ridges quickly. Some dried up, the river of red stopping short, while two filled, the blood flowing to the edge of the flat altar and spilling over the side.

I swayed. My head suddenly felt too heavy for my shoulders and my legs did not want to support me.

Rocking back on my heels, I expected to fall as darkness seeped in at the edges of my vision.

Instead, a warm presence hovered behind me as Kayn made himself known.

I tipped into his chest and was vaguely aware of his hands gently cupping my arms.

My knees gave away and I sank into him, but he did not force me to stay upright. He dipped with me, carefully seating me between his legs as we slowly dropped to the floor, his strength the only thing keeping me from collapsing.

I blinked rapidly, desperately attempting to clear the dark spots from my eyes. As three runes beneath the altar filled with my blood, I craned my neck to see their shapes.

An upright line with one triangular protrusion and an open ending line at the bottom turned red as the shape filled the highest. Raido , meant to journey or travel the path ahead, often used in the sagas to refer to hunters traveling paths to their prey.

Then a portion of the animals caught and killed would be sacrificed to Odin and feasted upon by his people.

Next, the rune with an upright line and an open arm reaching to the sky, like a tree with a single branch, filled halfway.

My path—my hunt—would be one of pain and transformation.

Kaun symbolized suffering through change.

The majority of my blood pooled in a final, haunting shape.

An upright line with a peaked top, like an arrow pointing to the skies. Tewaiz , represented warriors.

It didn’t matter how desperately I locked the darkness away, even the Gods knew I was meant to fight—to survive.

To become a huntress.

My hand stung and strength waned. My body threatened to buckle beneath me when the gift of an unexpected vision took hold of me.

Darkness enveloped me and before me a figure appeared.

Based on the descriptions I’d heard from the sagas, I knew Odin was standing before me.

His tall, gaunt body stretched above me.

He was mostly concealed within the dark cloak wrapped around him, but I saw the long ragged beard hanging over his chest and stomach and the glint of his single eye, the other having been sacrificed long ago for wisdom.

Two ravens perched on either side of him, their claws clinging to his bony shoulders .

Though this was like Freya’s visions, I knew it wasn’t. Not when the Hall of the Gods filled in around Odin.

He was visiting me— me . However briefly, he was here, standing before me, and I was both captivated and humbled at the same time.

All pain and exhaustion temporarily melted away as I focused every ounce of my attention on the Allfather.

“Kill the kings,” he said. His haunting voice echoed all around me like a pulse of energy. “This is for you to do alone. Only trust yourself.”

Another voice split through the haze of my awe, almost dissipating the entire scene of Odin standing before me.

“Do you have what you need?” Kayn whispered from behind me, his breath warm and soothing against my ear.

“Do you see him?” I breathed. “Do you see Odin?”

But before the words were all the way out of my mouth, Odin had vanished.

I let my head relax and I leaned into Kayn, finally humming confirmation to his question.

I had what I needed, a visit from the most powerful God and a single command—a step forward.

Though I didn’t know why he spoke of more than one king.

Perhaps that was my tired mind misunderstanding Odin’s strange voice.

Kayn reached around to the other side of my jaw, cupping it gently in his hand as he twisted and carefully tipped my face toward him.

With my eyes half-lidded, I lazily scanned his tender expression for understanding. He bent closer to me, our lips almost touching. My breaths, which were already rapid, quickened as his dark eyes fell to my mouth.

He drew my face into him, his kiss soft, lingering, and with just the right amount of sweetness.

The pain in my palm faded with every breath that passed between us. I took his tongue into my mouth and deepened the kiss .

Whatever this healing magic was, I felt every inch of it knitting my flesh together again.

Breathless, I pulled back just enough to speak. “How?” I whispered.

“I can share my power to heal myself with those I…” he paused for a beat. “Those I desire.”

Our lips collided again and I drank him in.

He’d admitted it. There was heat between us.